


won't go quietly

by jaylene



Series: company of thieves [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, UchiSaku Week, but that would've taken 15K to get to romance, was originally going to be them as a genin team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:24:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7774039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylene/pseuds/jaylene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mikoto and Fugaku visit Uzushio on Kushina's request, they don't anticipate much. They certainly don't anticipate Sakura.</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't go quietly

**Author's Note:**

> well, this was slapped together and the pacing is probably off but it’s done! huzzah!

“This is a waste of time,” Fugaku mutters, staring up at the spiraling, shining towers beyond the wall.

“Shut up,” Mikoto says, tired of her teammate’s complaints.

It’s been a long week and a half, travelling with Fugaku and Minato.

“You have to admit this is stupid,” Fugaku says, eyeing their surroundings with distaste.

“Minato asked us to accompany him. Aren’t you the least bit excited for him?” Mikoto demands.

Fugaku shrugs. “I suppose he and the redheaded banshee make a good couple but I don’t understand why _we_ had to come along to escort her wedding party.”

“They trust us, you moron!” Mikoto says, exasperated with Fugaku’s obtuseness.

“Oh,” Fugaku says, ire gone.

They fall silent for a few long minutes until Fugaku starts to fidget.

“What is taking him so long?” he asks.

“Probably held up in customs or speaking with the…what do they call their leader?”

“The Matriarch,” a new voice says.

The shinobi whirl, startled by the arrival. Before them stands a woman dressed in the traditional colors of Uzushio with the swirled insignia of the nation emblazoned proudly upon her shoulder. Her long pink hair is worn easy and loose as is her smile. She’s beautiful, in a comfortable, warm sort of way. It’s a beauty that creeps up in increments before unfurling fully, much like a sunrise.

“Minato-san isn’t with her by the way. He’s…‘catching up’ with Kushina.” Her nose wrinkles. “You’d think they’d been separated for years, not just a few months.”

Mikoto laughs. “And I suppose you’ve been made our greeter?”

The woman bows, graceful and mocking at the same time. “Haruno Sakura, merchant and tour guide for today, at your service.”

“You’re Sakura?” Mikoto asks.

“I guess Kushina’s told you stories then?” Sakura sighs, shaking her head. “I promise, my involvement with the Uzushio-Suna debacle is greatly exaggerated.”

“How did you go from bodyguard to merchant?” Fugaku asks, curious despite himself.

Sakura snorts. “I was never a bodyguard; Kushina’s my best friend. I come from a clan of merchants so it’s in my blood.”

“So what do you have planned for us, Sakura-san?” Mikoto inquires, ever polite.

“I was thinking a tour of our historical sites. You know, give you guys a chance to understand Uzushio a bit more,” Sakura says, concealing a smirk at the boredom that overcomes Fugaku’s expression. “Let’s start with the armory.”

* * *

 

“I’d no idea that Uzushio collected so much weaponry!” Fugaku exclaims, face as close to ecstatic as Mikoto has ever seen it.

“Thank you,” she whispers to Sakura, who stands next to her as they wander the sprawling halls.

Fugaku is way ahead of them, darting back and forth among the displays.

“For what?” Sakura asks, a little baffled.

“For this,” Mikoto replies, gesturing to her teammate. He looks so excited, so…carefree. She hasn’t seen him like that since they were children, long before his inheritance of the clan head position was announced. “It’s good to see him so happy.”

“I won’t lie; I grilled Kushina about all of your interests before you arrived,” Sakura says with a laugh. “I had to make sure I could get on your good side, since you are all such a big part of Kushina’s life.”

“Sneaky,” Mikoto says, admiration clear in her voice. “Well, you’ve certainly won Fugaku over. He may act stern but he’s quite soft in all honesty.”

Sakura turns a considering eye her way. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Mikoto asks.

“Are you enjoying yourself? The swords in this section, while impressive, can get a little repetitive.”

“I-I’m fine,” Mikoto says, a bit flustered by the attention. She isn’t used to people asking her opinion on things. She’s used to staying in the background as the larger (read: _louder_ ) personalities like Minato and Kushina and Fugaku take the spotlight. “I’m fine,” she says more firmly.

“C’mon,” Sakura cajoles, grabbing the taller woman’s hand. “I think I know something you’d be interested in.”

Mikoto stares down at their connected hands as Sakura pulls her along through different corridors. Sakura’s hand is tiny even in comparison to hers. No matter how delicate her hands and wrists look, Mikoto can feel the deep calluses grooved into her palm. It’s obvious that Sakura is no stranger to hard work.

Mikoto’s face warms as Sakura unconsciously squeezes her hand as she comes to a stop.

“So, this room doesn’t technically belong in an armory, but we placed it here anyway,” Sakura says, leaning against the door, hand still firmly around Mikoto’s. She seems to have forgotten that she is even holding it, though Mikoto certainly hasn’t. “It’s…well, it’s the telling of our history.”

Sakura glances up at Mikoto nervously before pushing through the door and guiding her in.

Mikoto’s breath catches in her throat.

The room isn’t particularly large, in fact, it’s quite small. However, tapestries cover every single part of the walls. They are made with miniscule, iridescent beads that shimmer in the light. They look to be in motion, shifting waves that change the images with every twist and turn.

“It’s…it’s beautiful,” Mikoto says, unable to find the adequate words to describe the sight before her.

Sakura doesn’t reply, stepping into the room and heading to the center.

In glittering colors, there is an image of a woman standing above the village of Uzushio. The woman holds a shield in one hand and a scroll in the other. Her hair is a brilliant, bright pink.

“This is my favorite place in the village,” Sakura says quietly.

“Who is this?” Mikoto asks as she moves up beside Sakura.

“The founder of the village,” Sakura says softly. “Uzumaki Takara. She defended with one hand and brought knowledge with the other.”

Mikoto turns to Sakura, seeing how entranced she is with the tapestry. The lights reflected off the beads catch upon Sakura’s face and in her eyes.

“T-thank you for sharing this place with me,” Mikoto says, finding herself inexplicably flushed.

Sakura turns to her, grinning. “Of course! What are friends for?”

And this is how Uchiha Mikoto falls head over heels.

* * *

 

“Where were you?” Fugaku whines, looking between the two women.

Sakura rolls her eyes, casting Mikoto a look.

“Yes, he’s always like this,” Mikoto says, shoving Fugaku away.

“That’s unkind,” he replies, glaring at her. “Really Sakura-san, will you allow such abuse to continue in your own nation? I’m a foreign dignitary; it’s your duty to save me.”

Sakura snorts, smile playing at her lips. Since visiting the armory, Fugaku has relaxed immensely and Sakura finds she likes this new side of him.

“Unfortunately Fugaku-san, this appears to be an issue between Konoha dignitaries. I refuse to step in the middle of that,” Sakura says, dancing away from him as he flings his arms up in disbelief.

“Answered like a true diplomat,” Mikoto says.

“ _Merchant_ ,” Sakura corrects. “There is a distinction, however slight. More personal benefits to being a merchant when you manage to sell someone on something.”

The Uchiha laugh in response.

Currently they are wandering listlessly around Uzushio, stopping whenever something catches their eyes. There is a decent sized crowd but all three of them are well-versed in skirting around them.

Mikoto enjoys the loose schedule, the lack of structure. She enjoys Sakura’s company especially.

They wander aimlessly, stopping at different vendors and experiencing the best parts of Uzushio. As they consume their fried oysters (a delicacy of Uzushio, Sakura assures them), Fugaku sees something that catches his attention.

“You have training grounds?” he demands, whirling on Sakura. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Easy there,” Sakura says, hands up in placation.

“I am a bit surprised, especially considering the fact that you have no standing shinobi base,” Mikoto says, eyes speculative as she gazes at the entrance to the fields. Guards stand at the kiosk, looking bored. “It seems pretty regulated and monitored too.”

“Well no, we don’t exactly raise shinobi here,” Sakura replies. “The ones who want to be trained are sent to Konoha or Suna. We do, however, train people who are attune to their chakra how to meditate and regulate it.” She smiles. “That’s where the ninjutsu and fūinjutsu come into play.”

“Interesting,” Mikoto says, fascinated by this non-militant society.

“And of course, we keep it for visiting guests,” Sakura says with a light smile.

“We can use it?” Fugaku asks, getting excited again.

“Of course,” Sakura says, giving the guards a nod as she passes by them. “Here,” Sakura says, choosing one of the fields and swiping her pass. “Let’s try this one out.”

Mikoto and Fugaku follow Sakura eagerly through the gate, glancing around at the space. It’s open, it’s green, and it’s full of rocks. A swathe of water cuts through the area, the river babbling merrily.

“Very nice,” Fugaku says appreciatively.

“We try,” Sakura replies.

Fugaku doesn’t respond, instead circling the arena methodically. He shakes out his arms, turning to the women with a grin. “This is perfect.”

“Don’t look at me,” Mikoto says, laughing. “I already know all your tricks.”

Fugaku turns to Sakura, brows raised and waggling. “How about it?”

Sakura crosses her arms, smirking slightly. “You do realize I’m a civilian, don’t you?”

“You’re obviously familiar with the training grounds,” Fugaku presses, casting a glance to Mikoto who nods. She wants to see Sakura’s skills as well; the reason she refused Fugaku’s offer in the first place. “And while I can’t sense any chakra from you, you’re bound to have some.”

Sakura’s smirk widens as she saunters forward. “It seems a bit unfair; the odds are stacked.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Fugaku promises gallantly.

Sakura’s eyes light with a hidden mirth and Mikoto gets the feeling that maybe Fugaku should be the one who is worried.

“What are the rules?” Sakura asks.

“Loser taps out,” Fugaku says, “or first blood.”

“That’s fine by me,” Sakura says.

Fugaku feels anticipation begin to boil within him as he watches Sakura. He keeps his Sharingan under wraps for the moment, remembering that Sakura is, in fact, a civilian.

This proves to be his first mistake.

He and Sakura move into the middle of the arena as Mikoto moves to a tree to lounge, her eyes Sharingan bright.

They bow to each other before springing apart.

Sakura immediately sets about pulling scrolls from her pack, ducking beneath swipes and jabs.

Fugaku is a bit surprised at how lithe and quick Sakura is, maneuvering around his attacks without even looking at him. He is testing the waters, feeling her out, and already the swell of admiration begins to fill him.

Sakura is heedless of his inner thoughts as she throws the scrolls into the air, watching them unfurl around them.

Fugaku eyes the floating scrolls edgily but they do nothing.

Sakura brings her hands together in different signals and calls, “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!”

She is surrounded with eight, maybe nine shadow clones.

Fugaku barely bites back a groan of distaste. This is a technique that Kushina uses often and it is _always_ a pain in the ass. He quickly forgets the scrolls around him as he engages Sakura and her clones in a game of taijutsu.

This is his second mistake.

It is only when the clones are gone and the field is clear that Fugaku realizes that Sakura is missing.

He curses, Sharingan flaring to life.

However, it is too late.

He catches sight of her chakra signature, much more than any civilian he’s ever encountered, beneath the ground. He tenses, preparing for her to emerge.

Unfortunately, what he didn’t account for were the scrolls.

This is his third and last mistake.

He suddenly finds himself with a kunai to his neck, still staring down at the ground.

He turns slightly, steel biting into his skin to catch sight of Sakura behind him.

“Should have been more cautious,” she says, eyes unreadable.

Fugaku does his best to shrug, smiling at her. “In my defense, I’d no idea you weren’t a civilian.”

“I _am_ a civilian,” Sakura says, “and because of that, you underestimated me.”

“Won’t happen next time,” Fugaku says.

Sakura raises an eyebrow. “Just to make sure…”

Her smile widens as she shoves him forward, leg sweeping beneath his and knocking him into the river.

Fugaku comes up sputtering, greeted by the sound of twin melodic laughter. Mikoto and Sakura stand over him, expressions sparkling. He finds a flush heat his neck and cheeks as he watches Sakura.

Sakura reaches forward, offering him her hand.

Fugaku hesitates for only a moment before pulling her forward and into the river.

Sakura comes up out of the water, chuckling. “You should be kind. I went easy on you.”

“Did you now?” Mikoto asks. “He certainly needed it.”

Fugaku and Sakura come to a silent understanding, grabbing a startled Mikoto and yanking her down beside them.

The three consider each other for a little bit and, somehow (Mikoto will never admit it), a splashing war begins. Sakura manages to get Mikoto in a headlock, pulling her deeper into the water.

Fugaku looks between them, even as he cups handfuls of water to throw upon them. He has never opened up to someone as quickly as he has to Sakura, but he finds himself incredibly comfortable around her.

And, as Sakura and Mikoto team up to dunk him beneath the water, he cannot imagine any place he’d rather be.

* * *

 

“So how are you enjoying your time here?” Kushina asks as they sit around a low table, shucking shrimp and oysters to eat.

“It’s been wonderful,” Mikoto says, flicking the hair out of her face with ease, even though her hands are coated in grime from the seafood.

“Sorry we haven’t been around much,” Minato says, rubbing a thumb over Kushina’s hand. “It’s been a bit…hectic lately.”

Kushina laughs, smirking wildly. “That’s his way of saying my family is insane.”

“N-no!” Minato blusters, blushing. “It’s just…I had no idea planning a wedding was so hard.”

“That’s what comes of a marriage across two nations,” Sakura says, swiping an oyster from Fugaku with a smile.

He glares at her for a moment before turning back to the others. “It’s fine Minato. Sakura’s a wonderful tour guide when she isn’t stealing my food.”

“Yeah, she’s a bit of a mooch,” Kushina says.

“Sakura’s been unfailingly kind, even though she may skim some of our food,” Mikoto says, eyes bright with infatuation.

“Where have you been taking them?” Minato asks.

“A few of the museums, a couple of the temples—” Sakura begins.

“Mainly the training grounds,” Fugaku says.

“The training grounds?” Kushina asks, brows high on her head. “And has Sakura partaken in any challenges?”

“Of course,” Sakura replies, blushing and bristling slightly.

Kushina gives her a look that communicates something that goes over everyone else’s heads.

“She uses scrolls pretty often,” Mikoto says, attempting to ease the tension.

“Her elemental scrolls?”

“Her _what_?” Fugaku yelps.

“Her scrolls,” Kushina says. “Sakura puts elemental chakra in each of them. They’re dead lethal.”

“No she…she hasn’t used them,” Fugaku says, gulping.

“Told you I went easy on you,” Sakura replies.

Everyone laughs before falling into a companionable silence.

This is their last night in Uzushio and a part of Fugaku feels sad. He’s enjoyed his time here, the respite of a vacation. He’s perhaps, especially, enjoyed the company.

Fugaku glances around at the group, knowing that they are his closest companions in the world.

* * *

 

The trip back to Konoha is even longer than their departure.

Kushina is bringing with her friends and family alike, many of which are civilians. However, unlike Sakura, most cannot keep the grueling pace the ninja set.

Fugaku, Mikoto, and Sakura find a wonderful way to pass the time.

It starts like this:

Sakura assigns herself firewood collecting duty every night. It’s…well, it isn’t an easy task but it is monotonous. She can sink into her thoughts quickly.

However, one night is different.

Mikoto volunteers to assist.

The two women set out, side by side, gathering wood and chatting lightly.

That is, until Sakura finds herself backed up against a tree, Mikoto plastered to her front.

Sakura stares up into shining red eyes as they both breathe heavily, staying silent for fear of shattering the moment.

Mikoto’s callused hand brushes across Sakura’s cheekbone in silent question.

Sakura arches her back, pressing her lips up against Mikoto’s.

It’s more than slightly messy, awkward in that exploratory way as they seek each other out, testing new waters.

It doesn’t take them too long to catch the rhythm and Mikoto is soon bending over Sakura, bringing the kiss to a new, deeper angle.

They lose track of time, mapping out the constellations above them in their sweet, secret kisses.

Finally, Sakura pulls away, smiling lightly. “That was…” She has no words.

“Yeah,” Mikoto replies, just as breathless.

They look at each other for a moment before Mikoto leans in again, nipping at Sakura’s bottom lip.

“We should…” Sakura trails off as Mikoto’s mouth travels to her neck and begins sucking marks there. “We should head back to camp.”

Mikoto pulls back with a smile of complete satisfaction on her face. Her eyes are lidded, her lips are puffy, and she looks completely and utterly smug.

“You’re right,” she sighs. “Let me collect the rest of the firewood and we’ll head back in.”

Sakura watches in amusement as Mikoto Shunshins around, collecting a large pile of firewood. If she didn’t know better, Sakura would say Mikoto is showing off.

She shakes off the silly feeling, smiling at her as they walk back into camp.

They sit next to each other at the campfire, listening to stories of the antics of the Uzumaki. Sakura misses the way Fugaku’s eyes follow them or the way they turn red as he catches sight of her neck. He and Mikoto exchange looks, communicating with one another without words. Sakura remains oblivious to the exchange.

* * *

 

The next night, Fugaku decides to join them. Sakura catches the curious look Kushina casts her but she ignores her best friend, following the Uchiha out.

Somehow, she isn’t surprised to be pushed against a tree, staring up into familiar Sharingan eyes.

They aren’t Mikoto’s.

Fugaku stares down at her, cocky grin edging into something soft and tender as he looks at her. He frames her face in both hands, leaning down to take Sakura’s lips between his.

He is a gentler kisser than Mikoto, actually, taking his time to taste and savor every sensation.

Fugaku pulls away after an immeasurable amount of time, looking down into her eyes.

Sakura glances between the two Uchiha, lips pulling into a quirked smile. “So did you two plan this?”

“Maybe,” Mikoto says, flicking her hair. Sakura has realized by now that it’s a nervous gesture. She’s noticed a lot of their small idiosyncrasies. “Are you alright with this?”

“Little late to be asking that,” Sakura says with a snort. “Yes, I’m fine. What about the two of you?”

They shrug.

“We’ve been basically betrothed since childhood,” Fugaku explains. “We’ve always known we’d be together but…”

“Something was missing,” Mikoto says, grabbing Sakura’s free hand in one hand and Fugaku’s in the other.

“That something was _you_ ,” Fugaku says tenderly, leaning in for another kiss.

Sakura smiles into the kiss and finds herself feeling… _alive_.

* * *

 

Their stolen rendezvous become a tradition as the three travel back to Konoha. They learn each other’s habits and overcome the initial awkwardness of any new relationship during their time traveling to and celebrating in Konoha.

The wedding goes off without a hitch and Sakura stays as long as she can afterwards.

Still, she cannot stop reality from crashing down upon them. She says a tearful goodbye to the Uchiha before heading out the worn, red gate of Konoha to begin the trek home.

And so begins the most miserable period of Mikoto and Fugaku’s lives. They find themselves dwelling in the places they visited with Sakura, trying to cling to the ghost of the past experiences. Currently they inhabit a grimy bar that is known for its seafood.

(Sakura claimed it was nowhere near on par with Uzushio’s and they had to agree.)

This is where Kushina finds them.

Kushina, returned from her honeymoon, rolls her eyes at the doleful expressions both Uchiha wear. As much as they like to claim otherwise, none of them are subtle.

“Well, don’t just leave it like that!” she says, stamping her foot.

“W-what?” Mikoto asks, turning to her and swiping at her eyes.

“Oh, come off it! I know you two were in a relationship of some sort with Sakura!” Kushina exclaims, ignoring Minato’s surprised yelp. “At first I thought it was just physical which is fine, but it’s more. I know it’s more now. You’re moping and angry and it’s throwing off everyone.”

“What do you want us to do?” Fugaku snaps, frustration making him edgy.

Kushina rolls her eyes. “You’re damn Uchiha. Do what you always do: manipulate, bribe; _fight_ , damn it!”

Mikoto and Fugaku look at each other, twin sparks of determination lighting their eyes.

They stand abruptly, leaving the bar and their memories behind.

They know they’ll be making more soon.

Kushina smiles in satisfaction, waving down a barista.

“W-what?” Minato stammers. “How did you—?”

“Oh honestly, Minato!” Kushina says. “And you call yourself a ninja!”

* * *

 

Sakura moves into the Matriarch’s hall, despondent. She’s been this way since leaving Konoha and she tries to ignore the reason for it.

Well, _reasons_.

She moves through the hall into the circular room at the end, ready to debrief with the Matriarch.

The Matriarch stands behind her desk, imposing as always. Her bright red hair, signature to the Uzumaki, shines beneath the fluorescent lights. Her blue eyes are a bit too interested in Sakura’s opinion.

“How was the trip?” the Matriarch asks.

“It went well. The wedding was wonderful,” Sakura says.

“I heard you were an exemplary diplomat,” the Matriarch says evenly. “The people of Konoha love you.”

“That’s…that’s nice, I suppose,” Sakura replies, nervous.

“Do you feel that assessment is accurate?”

“Well, I certainly enjoyed my time in Konoha if that is what you are asking me,” Sakura says, trying to figure out the Matriarch’s point.

“You made quite the impression.”

“How?”

The Matriarch places a scroll on the table. “Well, I received a scroll from the Hokage. He is requesting a diplomatic marriage between yourself, Uchiha Mikoto, and Uchiha Fugaku.”

“W-what?” Sakura asks in a high-pitched voice, heart lifting.

She knows that her life has gotten a lot more interesting.


End file.
